The Princess

There was a Princess, so refined
that the sun shone from her behind
(or so she thought). What she wanted
she always tried to get, she haunted
those who refused her wishes

No-one could speak ill of her
or her beau to her ears, if one did
abuse followed, mixed with tears
as the Princess became the pot
calling the kettle to cease whistling

The Princess, so snobby; so pretentious
she never could be wrong, as she was
The Princess - with a $100 hair brush
brushing that golden hair, so fair
as Mummy and Daddy told her

If you meet the Princess, carefully tread
on the minefield of her whims
Humour her demands, still you may
end up dead, so you might as well
piss her off and have some fun instead